Tuesday, October 27, 2009

I look at their lives and the many colours and stories. I wonder whyit is so full of activity, where mine is so empty. I wander through theirworn paths, and ruminate about my own. I falter in my convictions asI study their certainty. I poke tentatively at the differences and cowerat the mismatches. I fear.

Monday, October 19, 2009

Rough terrain slashing the backs of the weary wandererThe dread of the perils of the trailFrom the ones that were crossed beforeUncertainty underscoring the linesThe shapes and signs of the ever changing rhythmTime and moments to a lifeTying memories around the things that matterThe dreams that scatter and crease the browThe whys the wonder of the who how whensSome places you head towardsThe journey never seems to end or pace to slowOf growing old or grace enough to blanket imperfectionsFreedom fairness compassion justice to roamAn old friend, the shoulder upon which to leanA pillow upon which to dream, to imagine the things that cannot be seenHope, the age old wisdom, the comforting touchPuts words to songs and music to poetryMakes things so ordinarily missed and neglectedFind their meaningAnd mean much

Saturday, October 17, 2009

"Girl," the teacher's voice was a tad exasperated. "Go take the rubbish to throw with Dennis."

She hadn't been listening. Or rather, had been pretending not to.

"Girl, are you listening to me?"

Somehow, this situation spelt trouble. She could feel it already. She lifted her gaze from teacher to Dennis and stared straight into his fidgety face. She didn't like him. Not one bit.

The walk to the garbage collection area at the front of the school was a long one. Or maybe it seemed longer than usual because she was less than eager to make this trip.

What student doesn't like time to escape classes? Well, she wasn't one to favour it. At least not for these sort of reasons.

His pace was way quicker than hers. He didn't care, obviously, that she couldn't keep up. Every now and then though, he'd glance back at her. Pretty much just to gloat, more than for any other apparent reason.

Finally, they reached the door to the garbage collection spot. He shoved the bag of rubbish at her.

"You go throw it," he announced firmly.

She took the bag from him and glared. Then, holding her breath, she stepped into the garbage collection area. A mere few steps in and the stench overwhelmed her. She dropped the bag hurriedly and turned to leave...

Only to find the latch to the door fastened.

She pushed the door. It didn't budge. Pausing for a moment, she realised right then and there what had just happened. The idiot of a boy had locked her inside the garbage collection area.

She thought about screaming. But then again, she doesn't scream. And she wasn't sure whether she'd be heard by anyone anyway. They were the only ones around and the nearest class was quite a distance away.

Deciding to delay any real panic, she pushed at the door again.

To her surprise and ultimate relief, it swung open. She hurriedly made her exit.

Not far from the door, Dennis stood smirking, obviously very pleased with himself for having successfully frightened her. She considered hitting him. Shouting at him.

But then did nothing.

She stalked off, and he tailed from behind - both making their way back to class.